


teach me tonight

by griffenly



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25410055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/griffenly/pseuds/griffenly
Summary: They both wanted a one night stand. Weeks later, Clarke and Bellamy get a bit more than they bargained for.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 194





	teach me tonight

It was nearing midnight when they stumbled into the bar that Raven had sworn was _totally underground._ She’d been on a hipster kick recently, always trying to lure Clarke to some “undiscovered” place around town, despite all of Clarke’s protests that nothing new or exciting ever happened in Ark. She had grown up here, unlike Raven, so she knew that as a college town, summer meant desolation, all of the student haunts abandoned.

They’d been drinking in their apartment that night – and, honestly, every night before that, but that was beside the point – when Raven came up with her genius plan to bring Clarke here. “We can’t keep drinking in our _house_ ,” she had slurred decisively, gesturing with her arms as though undercutting her point. “It might make us alcoholics.”

“Yes,” Clarke agreed with a nod, swigging the last of the wine from the bottle. “Counterpoint, though: this alcohol is _free_.”

“But there are boys at the bars! And girls,” she added for good measure, furrowing her brow in a look so serious it made Clarke laugh. Raven pointed a finger at her menacingly. “C’mon, Clarke. Let’s go have _fun_.” She said the last sentence with such emotion, eyes hopeful and yearning, that Clarke couldn’t help but say yes.

And so here they were, already a little drunk as they entered. The place wasn’t bad, Clarke had to admit – Polaroid photos lined the walls, some with dates scribbled on the bottom, others with notes like “J + M forever.” There was a live band at the front, singing something she assumed sounded good but certainly could not judge, the music so loud it was just a dull noise in her ears.

“Bartender!” Raven called, dragging out the last syllable and slapping her hand on the counter. Clarke hid her face in her hands, embarrassed, but was laughing all the same. “Two tequila shots pretty please!”

“Oh, Jesus, you’re trying to kill me tonight,” Clarke muttered, sticking her tongue out when her friend just shot her a gleeful expression. Despite the late hour, and the fact that half of the city’s population wouldn’t return for another three weeks, the bar was fairly crowded. She could tell their fellow bar-goers were a bit older than the college kids, but not quite so old that Clarke felt out of place. Raven had a soft spot for older guys, anyway.

As though conjured, Raven shoved the shot in Clarke’s face, knocking their plastic cups together in a makeshift toast. They tossed the liquor back, each shaking their heads to clear the sting. “ _Why_ do you always have to pick tequila?” Clarke whined, grabbing the lime the bartender had placed in front of her and sucking it into her mouth.

“Gotta keep that energy _up_!” she proclaimed. She fell back into the bar stool and let her eyes rove over the crowd as though scoping out her prey. “See anyone exciting?”

Without even looking, Clarke shook her head. “Nuh-uh. No way I’m trying to find anyone tonight. I just went through a break-up, Raven.”

“Like three months ago! You need to get – back – out there,” she replied, each word punctuated with a light punch in the arm. “Besides, you and Lexa dated for like, five seconds.”

“Six months,” Clarke reminded her.

“Whatever. You’re a queen of commitment, Clarke Griffin. That’s just a blip.”

She rolled her eyes, uncertain if _queen of commitment_ was really the most fitting title for her. There had been a string of entanglements over the last several years: Wells, for a handful of months when they were in high school, before they’d decided they were better off friends and went off to college; Finn, who lasted just over a year, until Raven had entered his apartment one day while Clarke was making breakfast and the whole thing exploded in everyone’s faces; and then Lexa. The _blip_ , as Raven called it.

While it had only lasted a few months, Clarke had fallen hard and fast, had felt connected to her in a way that made Clarke wonder if maybe fate wasn’t such a sill thing, after all. Lexa was the first person she was ever sure she loved, which only made it that much more painful when she ended it abruptly and then moved halfway across the country for an acting gig. She could still remember the day Lexa had come over, breaking the news as easily as if repeating ingredients for a recipe, leaving before Clarke could even muster up a reply.

It took two weeks for her to realize Lexa had never told her she loved her back.

She was jolted out of her thoughts by Raven shaking her arm.

“That guy,” she whispered with finality, nodding her head to a dark-haired man who kept glancing their way. Something flipped in Clarke’s stomach.

“I don’t know,” she said with hesitation, biting her lip. “Maybe he’s looking at you.”

Raven scoffed. “Please. Besides, I’ve got my eye on another one.” Clarke followed Raven’s gaze towards a tall, caramel-skinned man in a beanie and then looked back to the mystery guy. Her eyes caught his for a long moment before he ducked his head and looked back towards the band. That settled it in her gut.

When she ordered a whiskey ginger from the bartender, Raven cheered gleefully in her seat. She tossed Clarke a wink before pushing her towards the dance floor, laughing when she stumbled. Clarke shot her a glare and returned her attention to the man to find he was already watching her, a grin tugging at his lips. She felt that pull in her stomach again.

“Graceful,” he teased as she walked up, and she simply rolled her eyes.

“My best friend is an asshole,” she said brightly, offering Raven her middle finger when she heard her scoff from across the bar.

“Ah, I’ve got one of those too,” he replied, nodding towards the beanie-wearing man Raven had been eyeing earlier.

Clarke shifted on her feet. She hadn’t attempted to flirt with anyone in… well, in nine months, since she and Lexa had quite literally fallen into each other’s lives at the first party of spring semester. She had never been very good at it to begin with, and she could feel the awkwardness washing over her. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she wondered if she should just escape now before she embarrassed herself any further.

She looked up towards the stranger, opening her mouth to get herself out of the situation. He met her gaze with a blinding smile, and it was so vulnerable, so genuine, her heart stuttered in her chest. When she didn’t say anything, he asked, “What brings you and your friend here tonight? I can’t assume it’s this band.”

Laughing, she said, “We got tired of getting drunk in our house. Figured it would be more socially acceptable to do it in public.”

“Ah, I see. And _not_ drinking is certainly not an option,” he joked.

“Oh, absolutely not. Plus,” she added, trying to hide the blush creeping up her chest, “I just got out of a relationship a few months ago. She’s trying to get me back out there.”

She glanced at him beneath her lashes and caught him cocking his eyebrow in surprise, lips twitching. “Hence the shove, huh?” he asked innocently, although Clarke swore she heard a hint of nervousness or even… _excitement_ in his tone. She nodded, biting her lip to hide her smile. Her skin was buzzing, and she kept telling herself it was from the alcohol.

In an instant, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently tugged her closer, and her skin felt like it was on fire.

Her breath was knocked out of her for a moment when she realized how close they were. She watched his eyes flit down to her lips, and her body felt weightless for a moment. The world seemed to melt away around them, and she took a moment to admire the whole of him: freckles scattered across his face like disconnected constellations; his eyes, dark and molten but flecked with gold that glimmered under the weak bar lights; his bronzed skin glowing against her much paler flesh. He was grinning at her again, and she knew, right then, that he could ruin her.

“What do _you_ want?” he asked, his voice soft.

Clarke hesitated for a fraction of a second, and when she tilted her head upwards, their lips were barely an inch apart. “One night,” she breathed.

He nodded before tangling his hand in her hair and bringing her mouth to his.

* * *

Clarke woke to a piercing headache sitting right behind her eyelids.

She blinked slowly, adjusting herself to the faint morning light filtering through her curtains. Her mouth was so dry she could barely lick her lips, and she grasped haphazardly at the water bottle sitting by her bed, finishing it in one go. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she was suddenly aware of something warm and heavy hanging around her hip. Clarke shifted her gaze downward, inhaling deeply when she saw a man’s arm there.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she whispered.

Following the trajectory of the arm, she found her apparent partner’s face buried in one of her pillows, his dark hair tousled. Clarke lifted her hand slowly, brushing a few stray curls out of his face, and was almost irritated at how achingly soft they felt beneath her touch. His face looked so peaceful she was hesitant to wake him.

Her mind flashed back to the night before: his emphatic _yes_ when she’d asked if he would come home with her, the way his hands had teased up her shirt as she struggled with the key in the lock, his kisses trailing hot and desperate across every inch of exposed skin he could find. They’d knocked into her bedroom door, her dresser, her nightstand, careless and desperate. When they finished, limbs tangled beneath dampened sheets, he’d kissed her so tenderly her heart ached.

He shifted slightly and she held her breath, but he merely belted his arm tighter around her. She felt warm and… _content_ , oddly, even despite the ruinous hangover she could already feel setting in. They had both made it clear last night, though, that this was to be nothing more than a one-night stand. And she had meant it – she didn’t feel ready to jump into something new just yet. Lexa’s words felt as raw and painful as they did three months ago. _You understand, right?_ she’d asked. _You would do the same thing if you were me._

_No,_ she had wanted to say. _I wouldn’t have._

Interrupting her thoughts, he suddenly asked, “Do you often stare at people when they sleep?” His voice was groggy but playful, and he grinned sleepily at her.

Clarke removed her hand as though she’d been scalded and shifted uncomfortably. “Sorry,” she murmured. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

Her companion winked. “We did tire ourselves out, huh?” She cleared her throat awkwardly and he stretched his arms above his head with a groan. She tried not to stare, but found her gaze tracing his veins anyway, admiring the muscles tightening in front of her.

His voice, once again, broke her reverie. “What time is it anyway?”

Glancing over her shoulder, she replied, “Seven thirty.”

“Ah, shit,” he said with a sigh, throwing Clarke’s polka dot comforter off of him and searching for his clothes scattered across her floor. “I’ve got a meeting at eight that I can’t miss.”

Clarke gathered the sheets around her body and leaned against the headboard. She thought back to their conversations the night before, trying to piece together what she could remember about his job. She frowned when she came up empty. “What do you do again?”

As he pulled on his jeans and fastened his belt, he threw her a grin. “Nothing interesting, I promise you.” Eyes scanning the room, he made a small _aha_ sound when he finally located his shirt on top of her dresser. “What about you?”

“Nothing interesting,” she repeated teasingly, and he laughed.

“Well played.” After he was dressed, he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching Clarke with an honest intensity that made her blush. “Well,” he said finally, moving towards her slightly, “I guess I should be going. It was great to meet you…”

“Clarke,” she supplied. She reached her hand out almost shyly, and he slowly connected their palms in a brief handshake. “Likewise…”

“Bellamy,” he finished with a smile. It had been that smile that had brought him into her room last night, and it was doing dangerous things to her heart now, too. She caught herself hoping he would kiss her again.

Bellamy cleared his throat, nodded once. “Gotta make that meeting. But maybe I’ll see you around.”

It didn’t seem like a question, but Clarke found herself bobbing her head anyway. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Maybe.”

He slipped out of her room, and she waited to hear the _click_ of the front door close before she let her head fall back onto her headboard with a loud groan. Almost instantly, she heard footsteps bounding towards her room, and braced herself for her best friend’s entrance.

As soon as she opened the door, Raven breathed, “ _Holy_. _Shit_.” She jumped on Clarke’s bed, sitting with her legs tucked underneath her and a wild expression on her face. “Was that the guy from the bar last night?”

“Bellamy,” Clarke offered, groaning again when Raven let out a loud cheer.

“Holy shit!” she repeated. Her mouth was torn open in a smile so wide Clarke thought maybe she was still drunk. “So much for, _I’m not ready for anything yet_.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Clarke insisted as she readjusted the sheet covering her chest. “We didn’t even exchange numbers. Or last names,” she realized, frowning slightly.

Raven’s grin dropped off of her lips, shoulders sinking, and she gave Clarke a withering look. “Are you _kidding me_? He was so hot. And funny. And hot.”

“Why did you have to say that twice?”

“Because it’s _doubly true._ ”

Clarke sighed, glancing around the room for her clothes. She found her underwear wedged between the nightstand and the bed, her shirt hidden beneath the sheets. As she attempted to dress herself, she replied, “We both just wanted it to be a one-night thing. Nothing personal. Just sex.”

Falling dramatically back onto the comforter, Raven huffed in frustration. “You seemed to really hit it off with him though,” she continued, her voice lilting the way it always did when she was trying to make a point. “I haven’t seen you laugh that much since you and Lexa broke up.”

“Untrue. I laughed more when you fell off the cabinets while trying to change the light bulb last week,” Clarke countered, cocking her head to give her friend a wink. She was greeted with Raven’s middle finger. “What happened to beanie guy last night?”

Raven scoffed, sitting up and giving Clarke a look of exasperation. “Apparently, he’s _gay_ ,” she replied mournfully. “So unfortunately, _I_ struck out. But at least _you_ didn’t!” She said the last two words in a singsong voice, poking Clarke playfully.

Clarke rolled her eyes. “C’mon,” she said with a confident clap of her hands, “let’s go get some coffee.”

* * *

“Have I mentioned I hate freshman move in?” Clarke asked with her arms crossed over her chest. The line at their favorite coffee shop was backed up seven people deep, mostly filled with parents who needed a break from unpacking their children’s dorm rooms.

“Once or twice, maybe.”

“Well, I _do_. Why do they have to move in now when classes don’t start for a month?”

They moved up slightly in the line, and Clarke stood on her tiptoes to spot the front. She glanced around campus behind her, watching eager eighteen-year-olds eyeing the brick buildings with awe, overenthusiastic parents seeking out directions as their arms teemed with countless – and ultimately useless – items. She remembered her own first year at the university. Back then, newly fatherless and frustrated with the entire world, the place had felt like a new beginning.

Now, entering her senior year, she felt a sharp pang of nostalgia.

“So,” Raven started, “How are we going to find this guy again? Should we go back to the bar tonight?”

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Clarke stared incredulously at her best friend. “Are you ever going to let this go?”

Raven pretended to think, tapping her foot and gazing into the sky. “Hm… no.”

“Look,” Clarke sighed. The line inched forward. She sounded like a broken record, repeating the same excuses over and over, hoping Raven would stop hounding her. “Lexa and I _just_ broke up. I’m not ready for that yet. Last night was fun, but that’s _all_. Besides, I think I’m too hungover to ever drink again.”

Laughing, Raven said, “That has certainly never stopped us before. Plus,” she added in an upbeat voice, “I think Emori and Murphy come back today.”

Clarke groaned. She loved them, but they were the hardest partiers she knew and _never_ took no for an answer. “God, are those two engaged yet? Because I swear –”

She halted when she felt a tap on her shoulder.

Spinning around with her eyebrows lifted, she came face-to-face with a girl about her height, with dark hair and wide, bright eyes. “Hi,” the girl greeted, smiling largely, “I’m a new student here. Just transferred in.” She pulled out a large, wrinkled map. “Can you help me figure out where the hell the Classics building is? My brother works here and I wanted to surprise him.”

“Yeah, sure thing,” Clarke said with a nod, eyes roaming the map to find the building in question. “I’m an Art History major so I have a bunch of my classes in there. It’s right here. If you just follow this path here and make a left, you can’t miss it. Giant ass statue right out front.” Her finger traced the lines on the paper and the girl nodded as she followed her instructions.

“Awesome, thank you _so_ much.” She looked between Clarke and Raven, still smiling brightly. She continued, “I’m Octavia, by the way,” reaching her hand out to shake both of theirs. Clarke couldn’t help but smile, charmed by the girl’s confidence.

“Nice to meet you, Octavia. We’re grabbing coffee,” she said, gesturing towards the line that was slowly snaking its way to the front. “Do you want to join us?”

Raven lightly bumped her with her hip and Clarke returned it. Octavia didn’t seem to notice, smiling even wider. “That would be great, thank you. My brother isn’t expecting me, so God only knows what I’ll walk in on if I just crash into his office.” She joined them in line, bobbing on her toes as though her body was incapable of sitting still.

“What does your brother do on campus?” Raven asked, and Clarke raised her eyebrow in gratitude. She knew how much Raven hated small talk.

“He’s a doc student,” Octavia replied. “He’s in his third year now, so he gets to start teaching classes. He’s excited about it.”

They moved up another spot. Only two people remained between them and sweet, sweet relief from the hangover that was only getting worse. Clarke glanced back to Octavia to see her watching the campus with a soft look. “What year are you, then?” she prompted.

Octavia returned her attention to the pair. “Oh, I’m a junior. Our mom died in May, so I wanted to be closer to my brother.” Clarke felt her heart seize up for a moment in understanding.

“Well, then, that means _you_ need to learn all the best bars in the area,” Raven said with a grin, wiggling her eyebrows at Clarke. “How would you like to go out with us tonight?”

When Octavia nodded enthusiastically, Clarke sighed. “I really need that fucking coffee.”

* * *

She knew it was a dream when her alarm started blaring in the background.

When she managed to hit the _off_ switch, Clarke groggily pushed her face into her pillow, willing her brain to return to sleep for a few more minutes. Her body was still thrumming, and she could just about feel his hands caressing her waist, his lips hot and needy at her neck, when Raven’s voice broke through the silence.

“Clarke! You can’t be late for the _first day_ of class!”

With a sigh of defeat, she lifted herself into a seated position, rubbing her eyes to bring herself back to the present.

It had been nearly a month since that night in the bar, since she’d shaken Bellamy’s hand before he disappeared from her life forever, and yet she continued to find herself waking up this way. Most mornings, her eyelids were plastered with images of that night, her skin buzzing. There were still others, though, where she imagined what might have happened if he _had_ kissed her that morning, if she had asked to be more than just _one night_.

“ _Clarke_ , if you want a ride, you’re going to have to get your ass up!”

She shook her head once, for good measure. She didn’t have time for daydreams today.

After a frantic ten minutes, Clarke was sitting in the passenger seat of Raven’s car, making her way to campus for her last first day of classes.

“It’s kind of sad, isn’t it?” she asked Raven wistfully.

Raven snorted. “Are you kidding? I can’t _wait_ to be done with classes. Plus,” she added with a wiggle of her eyebrows, “there’s no sense being sad today when we have First Night Wine Night!”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. Their first day of class tradition, filled with junk food and wine and crappy movies, was definitely the highlight of the semester. Tonight, they would get to introduce Octavia to it, too.

“Fair,” she conceded, “but can you _not_ call 911 to order a pizza tonight?”

“It was an _emergency_!” Raven insisted with an affronted scoff. “Anyways, here you are.” She pulled up in front of the Classics building, and Clarke gathered her bag.

“Thanks, Mom,” she teased, hopping out of the car. “Don’t forget the merlot for tonight!”

“As if I would _ever_.”

She waved goodbye as Raven pulled out. Clarke glanced around campus, taking a moment to sit in her nostalgia. The morning sun was spilling warm light across campus, illuminating the water in the fountain. Students were meandering about, some reconnecting with old friends, others looking deeply confused as they attempted to find their classes, and first-years who looked utterly mystified to even be there.

Smiling to herself, she started towards the building. She felt her phone buzz, and she pulled it out of her pocket.

_Octavia, 9:21 a.m._

Sup bitches!!! Going to the liquor store after brunch w/ my bro. Place ur orders or forever hold ur peace.

_Raven, 9:22 a.m._

Thank God we found you. First Night Wine Night is a GOOOOO!!!!

Clarke laughed, hastily typing a response – _We are probably the only people thinking about drinking at 9:30 in the morning. Also, grab some white pls!_ – as she walked into the classroom. She was distracted upon entering, thinking about tonight, about when they should order dinner, about what movies they’d watch. Later, that would be her defense when Raven asked how she hadn’t noticed immediately.

She shoved her phone into a pocket of her backpack as her eyes scanned the seats, picking one near the middle and falling into it. And as she lifted her gaze to the professor, Clarke’s eyes met Bellamy’s for the first time in a month.

Her first, knee-jerk reaction was to mutter, “ _Fuck_.”

For a fraction of a second, Bellamy just stared at her, open-mouthed. He caught himself quickly, clearing his throat and averting his gaze from Clarke’s.

“Good morning, everyone,” he said. “I’m Professor Blake, and this is Greek Mythology Through Art. I’m just going to pass out the syllabi…” He fiddled with papers on the table up front before handing a large stack to a girl in the first row.

_Professor Blake._ Clarke could see his mouth moving, but her ears were ringing so loudly she had no idea what he was saying. She was trying to school her expression into something resembling normalcy, and when the syllabi reached her, she took one and passed the rest along with trembling hands. Even as she tried to focus on the words in front of her, her eyes kept drifting to _him,_ drinking him in as though she had been in the desert with no water.

He looked just as Clarke had memorized: skin nearly golden as the sun filtered through the window, hair wild and unruly around his face. He was wearing glasses this time, an addition that was doing _deeply_ dangerous things to her stomach and her heart. And his eyes – _Jesus_ , his eyes were killing her. They were just as warm and bright as they had been that morning, but there was also passion and joy in them. Leading a classroom… suited him.

Her fingers itched for her phone, _needing_ to tell Raven as soon as possible. She refrained, though, because she wasn’t sure she could bear to be called out by _Bellamy_ , of all people, in front of the entire class. Sucking in a calming breath, Clarke tried to remind herself: _Professor Blake_.

Something lurched within her.

The classroom was silent, and she was suddenly terrified she had said something out loud. But Bellamy – _Professor Blake_ – merely nodded.

“If there aren’t any questions, I think you’re all good to go. Like to stay true to syllabus day, after all.” He fixed them all with that smile, crooked and beaming, and Clarke felt her stomach drop.

The classroom murmured their assent, some calling, “Thank you, Professor Blake!” as they headed out the door. Clarke grabbed her bag hurriedly, realizing she needed to escape before she was the only one left. By the time she’d risen, though, the room was empty.

Clarke was paralyzed next to the desk, backpack hanging limply from her hand. Bellamy put his hands in his pockets, echoing that morning so many weeks ago, and Clarke thought she was going to die on the spot.

Licking his lips, he deadpanned, “Fancy seeing you here.”

She stared at him. Blinked once. “Are you _kidding_?”

Bellamy grimaced and let out a low chuckle. “I’m not… I’m not quite sure how to respond to this situation.”

“Well that makes two of us,” she said quietly. Clarke fidgeted, pulled the straps of her backpack around her shoulders. She started plotting her escape, but her thoughts were interrupted when he spoke again.

“I…” He paused, glancing down at the floor. When he looked up, their eyes connecting, she was struck anew by the vulnerability she saw there. “I’m glad. To see you again, I mean.”

Clarke smiled despite herself, a slow, timid thing. “Me too,” she murmured. She wondered if he could read it all over her face, the way she’d dreamt about him for weeks, the number of times she’d gone out to that bar again just to scan the crowd to see if he’d show.

He grinned back at her and ducked his head in something close to embarrassment. “This is obviously a –”

“Hey, Bell! Sorry I’m so early, I – oh, hi Clarke!”

Octavia bounded into the room, smiling brightly at Bellamy and Clarke even as her brow furrowed in confusion.

For the second time that day, Clarke thought she felt her soul leave her body.

“Hi, O – how… how do you two… know each other?” Bellamy asked slowly. His gaze flitted between the two of them, forehead wrinkling in concentration as he tried to put the pieces together. Clarke thought she might be sick.

“Clarke is the friend I was telling you about, who I met at the coffee shop a few weeks ago. I’ve been _trying_ to get you to meet them, but you were too busy being all sad about –”

“Okay,” Bellamy interrupted quickly. His cheeks were burning, and Clarke had a thousand questions on the tip of her tongue. _Her brother. This was Octavia’s brother._ “You never… never mentioned your friends’ names.” He paused, glancing between them once again. Clarke ransacked her memory and realized that Octavia had never mentioned his name, either. “Well, uh, Clarke is in my class this semester. We were just… getting to know each other.”

“Yes,” Clarke replied, eyeing him pointedly. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Clearing his throat again, Bellamy lifted his eyebrows as he looked at his sister. “You ready for brunch?”

Octavia nodded, but she had a suspicious glint to her eye as she watched the two of them. Clarke gripped the straps of her backpack tightly. “I’d better head out, Raven’s going to be waiting for me,” she said quickly. “See you tonight, Octavia?”

She sprinted out of the room before even waiting for a response.

* * *

“So let me get this straight,” Raven said. “Bellamy – hot guy from the bar Bellamy, _one night stand_ Bellamy – is also Octavia’s brother, and your professor.”

From her position on the couch, face buried into the pillow, Clarke replied, “Yep.”

“And Octavia doesn’t know.”

“Nope.”

“And she’s on her way here. Tonight. Now.”

“Yep.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Yep.”

Raven sat a glass of wine on the coffee table in front of her, whistling lowly. “You really know how to pick them, huh, Griffin?”

Clarke sat up, giving her friend a look of utter despair. “What the _fuck_ do I do?” she moaned. “I already switched classes, thank God. But do I have to tell Octavia? What if _he_ told Octavia? What do I do if I have to see him again? Oh _God_ –”

“Okay, first of all, _breathe_ ,” Raven instructed. She nudged the glass of wine closer to Clarke and nodded at it. “Second of all, drink.” She waited for Clarke to comply before continuing. “Third of all, there is nothing we can do right now. We will see what happens when O gets here, and then we plan from there, okay?”

Clarke nodded, taking a large swig. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass and murmured, “He said… he said he was glad to see me again.”

She could hear the smile in her friend’s voice when Raven replied, “And? What did you say?”

Rolling her eyes, she said, “The same thing.” Raven shrieked giddily and Clarke glared at her. But she softened almost immediately as she continued, “I… I haven’t stopped thinking about him. And I’d been hoping I could see him again, that maybe it _could_ be more than just one night, but now it’s so _complicated_ and I feel… confused.”

When she met her friend’s eyes, she expected confusion or even frustration. She expected Raven to tell her she was being ridiculous, or to go find someone else. But when Clarke looked up, there was nothing but kindness there. A knowing smile lifted the corners of Raven’s lips. “You know, as corny as it sounds, maybe things happen the way they need to. I think,” she said confidently, shifting from the floor up to the couch, “things are going to work out just fine.”

Clarke nodded and smiled gratefully at her friend. “Until then: alcohol.”

Raven snorted. “Cheers to that.”

There was a knock on the door, and Clarke inhaled nervously. She downed the rest of her wine before heading to answer it. “Get me another glass, _please_!” she called.

Clarke opened the door, smiling when she saw Octavia. “Hey,” she greeted. “Come on in. Raven’s in the kitchen, we’ve already opened a bottle of white.”

“Perfect!” Octavia said cheerfully, holding up the two bottles she had brought herself. “I’ll go ahead and help her. Maybe you two can talk in the meantime, hm?” She turned to give a pointed look to someone behind her and nudged Clarke on her way in.

When Bellamy appeared in the doorway just a second later, Clarke’s stomach constricted.

“Oh,” she said, before she could stop herself. “Hi.”

He smiled a bit sheepishly at her. “I… uh… I talked to Octavia.”

Clarke winced. “Is she… how did she… react?”

Chuckling softly, Bellamy said, “She called me an idiot. Which is fair.” Clarke’s brow furrowed.

“Why would she –”

“After… that night, I knew I should’ve asked for your number. Or asked you out for real. But… but you’d made it pretty clear that you were coming off of something fresh, and we barely knew – barely _know_ – each other, and so I didn’t.” Clarke was holding her breath, every inch of her body humming with excitement and nervousness and downright terror. His eyes hadn’t left hers the entire time, and she wondered if he could see into her very soul.

“So I was kind of miserable, the last couple of weeks, _knowing_ what I should have done and what I _didn’t_ do, and so, uh… Octavia told me to, and I quote, ‘Stop being a little bitch about it and do something.’” He laughed, then, and Clarke bit her lip to keep from smiling too widely. “I obviously don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he added in a rush. “I can switch classes, or –”

“I already did,” Clarke interrupted. He raised an eyebrow. She explained, “I’m in Professor Kane’s class now.” She shifted closer to him, felt the warmth of his body through his thin t-shirt. Tilting her head up to meet his gaze, the déjà vu washed over her in a rush. 

As though he sensed it, too, he murmured, “What do you want?”

She smiled slowly at him. Then, fisting his shirt, she kissed him hard. He had his hands on her immediately, one cupping her face and the other digging into the skin at her hip. After just a moment, he pulled back, dropping his forehead onto hers.

“So, about that date…” he started. His breaths were hot and heavy on her face, and she laughed, tasted them on her tongue.

“That would be a yes,” she replied.

As she reconnected their lips, she could hear Octavia and Raven cheering from inside the house. 

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE thanks & shoutout to @underbellamy on Tumblr for suggesting this and inspiring me to write it. Hope y'all enjoyed <3


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